Evening Star Newspaper, July 30, 1922, Page 60

THE MAN WHO MARRIED A DUMB-BELL URIOUS and half embarrass- ed. Stephen Douglas = had witnessed the unpacking of his shabby luggage and the orderly disposal of his entire inven- tory of wearing upparel. For a sec- ond the valet hesitated, then he slip- ped the cheap celluloid Brush into the top drawdr of the chest beside the imitation-leather collar box. At the Wilkes paused, and his hand felt along the wainscoting. “This bell is for me, sir” And the heavy noiselessly. doorway door closed Then the young man smiled. “The solemnity of the gentleman’ he thought. “Still I suppose he's got to kid himself. some way. into thinking he's got a regular job. It was the first time Stephen Doug- las had ever encountered a vale' or visited at a country estate; the first time, indeed, he had ever beheld the wonders of material perfection that zreat wealth can achieve. Ever since he had stepped from the dusty Chi- cago loeal onto the stone flagging of he station platform at Willowbrook he had been transported into a world he had never believed existed. The plagns of Illinois had been metamorphosed into a Normandy park. At the end of an exquisitely molded driveway, bordered by flicker- ing. swaying tipped poplars, rose the bleak gray walls of the chateau. Ten s« before Michael Higgins, on a business trip 20 France, had admired it. Now it stood, fifty miles from Chi- cago, reproduced with uncompromis- ing faithfulness, unweathered and un- assimilated, cold, pretentious and un- real After it was finished Michael Hig- knew something was wrong, so they brought over a pear or- ehard from Norway and the pop- lare and a vineyard. Twenty garden- ers nursed these aliens into a listless <emblance of permanen but the rigors of each winter took their toll and every spring new orchards were from France. Michael nev 4 man to be climate or geography Willowbrook became a testimon to his were his dams and his his bridges, his railroads and his steamships. There was that Michael Higgins that partook a superhuman intelligence—and there was that about him that was pitiful and obtuse and defeated * % % % <hipped was balked His as <ins clther by cstate at triumphant senius as mines and ahout oA looked about the Louis AS S NIV hedroom he remembered sud- enly a remark he had heard Judge Truman make: “Some men are either wreai successes or great failures. Michael Higgins is both suo tempore. Of Michael Higgins' success there conld he no question. This offspring of a small-town Presbyterian minister had ereated for himself a position not without national significance. With no reasons for his deductions, Stephen Douglas suspected that Mi- chael Higgins' failure, to which the judge had referred, might be bound with his personal relations. He he was married and had two the elder of whom was only <even. He had heard Mrs. Higgins was heautiful and much younger than her husband, although Michael Hig- zins himself was only forty-three. To have accomplished all that he had at forty-three might lead one to suspect ather things had been neglected. stephen Douglas crossed the room a pressed the button Wilkes had in- Instantly the valet reap- up knew dicated. peared ‘Do vou happen to know where Mr. Higgins wants me to work?” Stephen usked Wilkes nodded. “In the library.” His face remained consistently without . ex- pression. “The books you brought are already laid out, sir." Stephen’'s amazement was patent. “Well." he thought, “I've got to hand it to vou. You could probably lay out « railroad—or a corpse.”” What he said was: “Thank you. I wonder if you'd be zood enough to show me the way. You come darn near needing a chart and compass to navigate this house.” Wilkes smiled, against his better jndgment. ““This way, sir." The library was a room of exquisite proportions. French windows gave on to a terrace the grass of which was as incredibly soft and miniature as the sward of a putting green. Open book- cases, like somber-toned tapestry. stretched to the ceiling, and around the room ran a narrow balcony which one reached by a paneled staircase. On the north side a great hooded fireplace in- trigued the imagination with visions of hissing spruce logs and frantic, adven- turing sparks. For an instant Stephen hesitated. It seemed that his whole body responded to the beauty around him. “I suppose.” he thought, “I'll wake up.” True. on the table before him lay all the books he had worked with back in Judge Truman's law office. Just a vear ago, timid, incredibly ambitious, he had been assigned by the judge to fag for the gentleman in charge of the traction case. Now. Stephen Douglas was that gentleman. More than one Jawyer in Judge Truman's firm had la- bored over the térms of the traction franchise. Mayors and cite wouncils—in fact, the whole game 0® swal politics— were tied up in the red tape of the is- sue. Judge Truman's firm represented the ‘interests”—and Michael Higgins was tne Iiterests. * ¥ ¥ ¥ R a third time the fight was to be carried to the appeliate court and Michael Higgius lost patience. The cuse was like a mosquito, disturbing the iayll of his financial success, and he decided to take a hand in it himself. Besides, his doctors \had ordered him out of Chicagoe for a whole month away from husiness. Without some sort of diversion he would rage with frritabllity. The 1raction case was diversion. According- Iy. he summozed voung Douglas to Wil- lowbrook to prepare the material for the brief under his own supervision. “Lat's win or get licked once for all,” he wrote the judge. “I like to see the end to thinga" Judge Traman showed Stephen the letter. “He's the most able man I know,” the judge admitted, “but 1 know some- thing he doesn't. Where the material vou work with Is human thefe is no such thing as finality.” Then he looked a long moment at Stephen. “You don't know that either. You're young yet. Doubtless Judge Truman was speak- ing wisdom, but it didn’t make sense to Stephen. your books and run along. You'll Hig- | For a long time that afterncon it seemed to Stephen he could never work again. Perhaps there is something de- vitalizing in too much beauty. At once there appear— a thousand things he would rather dream about—than the traction suit. Then he shook himself mentally. Because‘he had behind him the discipline of one who had crossed lances with bleak necessity, he forced his mind to concentrate. It was with a start that. two hours later, he lifted his eyes to the woman who stood look- ing down at him. With boyish awk- wardness he shuffied to his feet. “I— I'm sorry. I didn’t hear any one come in.t She smiled at him and lifted her shoulders with a bewitching, haif-de- precating shyness. “That's all right. 1 didn't know any one was here either.” Then after a moment she added: “I'm Mrs. Higgina." Stephen Douglas bowed his head in acknowledgment. He remembered sud- denly & line from Browning: “She was the smallest lady alive.” She would not reach to his shoulder, he was sure, and there was somthing wistful about her and strangely childlike as she stood there before him, her face upturned and her eves searching his. - NY PR ‘\ loveliness, alluring, perhaps, be- cause of its very incompleteness, de- pendent on a mood, on the subtle coiling of the hair, on the strange rightness of the throat line of a cos- tume. Theirs is a beauty that is unpredictable, full of contradictions, significant because of its unexpected- ness. The woman whose eyes held Stephen Douglas’ was not like these. She did not torment the imagination with a galaxy gf possibilities. The face that is almost beautiful makes a creative artist out of each beholder. The wife of Michael Higgins, how- ever. seemed to have achieved & per- fection as flawless, as exquisite, as it final. Another woman might have recognized the triumph of her | grooming. Stephen Douslas only knew she was the loveliest woman he had ever seen. iTe never guessed how long they looked at each other. “Won't you have tea with me?"’ she said finally. “Please don't be busy.” He knew she must be older than he, | but Stephen Douglas felt delightfully protective. To refuse her would be as cruel as to deny a child. *“Where I come from we don’t go in for tea,” he said, and there was something disarming in his confession. “I mean —except for supper.” “No? But the time's so long from luncheon until one dines~—at eight,” she protested. ght>" His surprise ‘was patent. Then he smiled again "™No wonder your husband owns the #orid. Any- body with @ working day like that.” Mrs. Higgins looked at him a mo. ment curiously. “Yes, my husband.” There was the briefest interval of silence. "I don't know much about his work. He isn't here very much and 1 suppose I wouldn’t understand —even if he bothered to talk.” It was like the confession of an honest child that pad failed to pass a grade in school. Stephen accepted the situation. “I'd love to have tea with you.” he sald. “Don’t hold it against me if I do all the wrong thing: She smiled up at him suddenly. ou're nice” she said * * s * * x x )[ICHAEL HIGGINS was interested “*% in Stephen because Stephen was a bright young man who was working for him on a traction case, a traction case he wanted to see the end of. During the amazing pageantry of dinner Michael Higgins talked busi- ness. Twice he spoke to a servant, giving a qulet, definite order. Once he spoke to his wife. His manner toward her was neither rude nor in- sulting. It just seemed, some way, as if she didn’t exist. She was no more essential to the functioning of that dinner than the exquisite Titian can- vas that hung on the wall behind her. To Stephen Douglas that talk was a revelation. Never had he met a mind as unswerving., as astute as this man's. To watch him dispose of op- position, co-ordinate, systematize was like watching a chemist perform a delicate experiment. Stephen's ad- miration was as outspoken as it was sincere. “Mr. Higgins.” he said, “I'll vote for you when they nominate you presi- dent of this planet.” To Michael Higgins the uniqueness of his mental processes was no source of conceit. For an instant he seemed offended, but he smiled. “I've little interest in running for office, Mr. Douglas.™ Then the finger bowls were removed and Mrs. Higgins rose. “Michael,” she sald. “there’s too much sand on the tennis courts, and I've heard the second cook’s going to leave.” “I know." “I've prepared he sald. “T' against both contifigencles.” His re- ply. Stephen realized, was not con- ciously rude, cruel as was the hurt it inflicted. TIts erudite phrasing made him think of the spelling out of words before a child. Michael Hig- gins looked at his wife an instant as if he were trying to believe in her presence. Then his mind turned back to Stephen. “In my library I've the first Blackstone in existence. Would you care to see it?” Like a servant who has received an order, Stephen followed him. Some where, out in the moonlight'on the terrace, he saw Mrs. Higgins disap- pear. She was a creature Merlin might tave envisioned in the glades of dn enchanted forest. Michael Hig- gins had married her for her beauty, and that was an end of it. Stephen suddenly wondered whether Michael Higgine had ever yearned for the sweetness of a woman's comradeship, whether, indeed, he ever knew that he had lost it. 3 * ¥ k¥ IN a week tea at 5 and dinner at 8 became reasonable institutions, and Stephen at length grew able to work in the Louis XIV library with the same concentration he had known back in Wilmot Truman's dingy office. Sometimes, Indeed, it appeared to him he had never worked so eadlly, or with so secure a fesling of the right- ness of his conclusions. But never before, perhape, had he worked under the stimulus of 30 keen or so articu- late & mind. i Stephen, for his part, could only become to Michael, Hi; women have a fragmentary | THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, JULY 30; 1922—PART % : _—__—_—__—————__—_————___—zzb——__—_—————————_—*—_—__—— came the better satisfied Stephen’s employer appeared to be. There was something almost unbalaced in the man's relentless activity. From the first evening of Stephen's arrival he had known that Mr. Hig- gins, and not his wife, commanded the establishment. To run a place like. that, with even moderate effi- clency, demanded a very real execu- tive telent. But Michael Higgins had evidently never offered her even an apprenticeship. The two Higgins children Stephen had seen only once. They lived in a separate wing of the chateau under the command of nurses and tutors. They were long-legged boys, dressed always in immaculate English suits, shy and at the same time nervously aggressive. Each had a band of cop- per-colored freckles across his nose. and the younger boy still explored with his tongue the delightful cavity left by the dramatic extraction of a front tooth. When Stephen chanced upon them they were being instructed in setting- up exercises by a rigorous Swedish gymnast who thumped his chest and expanded it portentously. like the frog in the fairy tale. The children scemed bewildered and unhappy and regarded the earnest Norseman with a sort of frightened toleration. “Gosh,” Stephcn whispered as he looked away from the spectacle. Sud- denly he thought of something, some- thing he had not thought of for a long time, that he hoped he had forgotten Before Stephen had been “placed out” on Zeke Preston's farm, near Green Mountain. Towa. he had lived in a big stone building where the shutters rat- tled. where he had lain awake at night. his eves strained shut against the dark- ness, his breath catching Im silent, strangling sobs of loneliness. phen was perfectly sure what he he felt. Stephen was perhaps no more suceptible than most men. but he was Celtic in his response to beau- ty. Obviously she llked him. She was pitifully lonely. He was sorry for her and pity is always dangerous- 1y alluring—alluringly akin to some- thing else. A dozen times he had wanted to put his arms around her, to comfort her—to tell her she was an Then, with an accusing stab, the sus- picion would come to him that be might be falling in love with her. Ridiculous, caddish. Besides, he cared for some one else. Constance Tru- man. the judge’'s daughter, was not at all like Cynthia Higgins. Bound up in his feelings for Constance lay every decent ambition, every wish to do a piece of work a little better than the next man. She had been “the star that arose in his datknass"” ever since that first day he had seen her. And now had come this other one, ‘Was it possible to be in love With two women at once? The idea appeared to him revolting. Besidés, Cynthia Higgins was married. Well. anyway. no matter what his feeling toward her might be, he would behave in such a way that she would never suspect it. This was a compact with himself. Then Michael Higgins took a day off to visit the northern corner of his estate, where he was planning to change the coursé of a trout stream. Cynthia and Stephen dined alone In the great paneled banquet room that evening. Across the ponderous cen- terplece of orchids she seemed very remote, and her face framed between the heavy silver candlesticks ap- peared as delicate and miniature as a child After dinner Stephen followed her out into the moonlight. Below the terrace stretched an Itallan garden, as unreal as a stage set, where black shadows intermingled with bleak sud- den splotches of moonlight. Overhead high clouds raced toward a small sil- ver moon, captured it—and raced on again, regardiess of their conquest. For a long moment they both stood ther The wind trailed a strand of chiffon from her scarf across Ste- phen's face. She laughed softly and put out her hand to recapture it. Then suddenly he caught her hand, held it a second in both of his and released it again. “I'th going home Thursday." he said. “Stephen!” ,It was the first time she had called him by his first name. Again there was silence between them. z It seemed a long time that they sat there. On the path Before them the ‘wind caught up a scattering of yellow beech leaves and twisjed them like a minfature tornado. “I shall miss you.” she said finally. “T've been terribly lonesome.” “I know. She lifted ber face toward the moon. “Look,” she said. “That's like me up there.” She stopped, em! brit Tm 2Mite the fof hin lips The | chateau—but loneliness is no respecter | home for orphans in Des Moines was a | far cry from Michael Higgins' great of palaces. \ “Gosh.” Stephen repeated. *and | they're nice kids. too.” = * ¥ ¥ X (CONCERNING Mrs. Higgins. Ste- thought, but immediately unsure what | | two hours to dress for dinner.” idiot. | sailed on way ahead and left me, waiting. She turned to him shyly. s that silly?" “No.’ She looked across the stretch of garden. “He would think it was. He's not like you. I can't talk t him—any more. I suppose I'm stupid’ Stephen Douglas didn’t look at her. It wasn't safe to. What he wanted to say was: “You're enchinting— and you're the reason I'm leaving Thursday.” It was very difficult to think of her now as the wife of Mi- chael Higgins. “Were you ever hap- Py together?” he asked finally. Cynthia Higgins nodded. “Yes, in the beginning. And then Michael started getting rich. He was inter- ested in things I didn't understand. | T suppose 1 began to be afraid of him. He managed everything, the ildren, even the house. He's very capable. Only the gravity of her nmanner stripped this tribute of its ridiculousness. “I'm not. I'm only— easy to look at, And to make such a confession a woman must be very lovely indeed. * x X % \\/ITHOUT even putting it into con- scious thought, Stephen knew there were three things he could do. He could take her into his arms, as every instinct shouted in him to do; he could run away, or he could for- get himself and think of her. The times in a man's life when he decides unselfishly are as unaccountable, as unpredictable, as the times he doesn’t. They are neither reason- able nor logical. They just happen. Stephen Douglas knew suddenly that, though he might blunder, this time he would be neither a knave nor a | coward. Look here,” he said, “I don't sup- pose you're any intellectual glant— but most people arent. You've had just one resource—your beauty. 1 reckon,” he hazarded, “it takes you ‘I wish sometimes it It does when I have a She nodded. took longer facial.” “Lord:" He had believed two hours the profoundest hyperbole. Then he became serious. “There’s the chil- dren. Tl bet they're lonesome, t00; lonesome with too many nurses and tutors and Swedish bone pullers.” He stopped a moment and the ex- pression of his face was not pleasant to see. “Nothing that can happen later is so bitter as the loneliness of childhood. That's something 1 hap- pen to know. Look here,” he said, “why don't you kidnap those. In- dians?" She looked up at him startled. “How did you know?" “I didn't.” Her relief seemed to him both ridiculous aid pathetic. “It'y & se- cret. Every Thursday.” Then, with the unpredictable resiliency of youth, she smiled up at him. “Would you like to come tomorrow to a—kidnap- ing?" Stephen Douglas hesitated just a second. “Please,” she sald. ingly in earnest. “1 should be delighted.” His man- ner equaled hers in gravity. “If you should need any legal advice it might be handy to have me along. Now, She was amas- the laws ‘egarding kidnaping In Illinols- 2 “Listen to me,” she interrupted. “At 3 o'clock tonforrow take the path that follows the creek and go as far as the farmhouse” Her voice stopped suddenly. “Michael's going to have the creek ‘diverted’ into his old trout pool. Sometimes I think Michael goes too far when he starts bossing nature.” “That's his job,” Stephen defended him. “Think of his dams and his power plants.” “I know,” she sald. “But the children like Willow creek just as it is. It's got wonderful thtings in it. Crawdads and tadpoles and water bugs. 1 know.” He remembered the delightful galaxy of amphibians that had beguiled his own childhood, “Mud turtles are splendid, too, if the creek’s slimy enough.’ They both laughed. “How silly Michael would think thi she said finally. t s She nodded her head in solemn ac- quiescence. “I suppose it is—but it's nice.” X Ten minutes later a servant fin- formed Mrs. Higgins that Mr. Hig- gins had returned and was waiting in the library to see Mr. Douglas. She held out her hand to him, -night. It's been & nice even- X k¢ " ‘Good-bye—until tomorrQw. * ¥ ¥ ¥ SEAT!D at the littered desk was Stephen's employer. For an in- stant the two men looked at each other,’ then -the older man’'s eyes wav- ered. - “In Wua-v:ln.“uulc; -'.::; had a traction suit similar respects to - this one’ hy droned. Stephen Douglas watched Him ouri- ously. He was sun-burny but his pyes looked haggard and were . i 2 court appeals,” he began. For perhaps ten minutes Stephen listened while the voice of his em- ployer drove on. Finally Michael Higgins stopped. “Well?” he queried. Stephen came to with a start, knew he must say something. “Cu- rious parallel.” There was an inter- val of silence while Michael Higgins watched him. “But, you know,. some way I can't get very interested in that traction case tonight.” “No? f Michael Higgins looked at him with a sort of baffled curiosity rather than with anger. It was a long moment before he spoke. “You're not inter- ested tonight?” he, repeated. “Well, neither am 1" interval of silence. He Again there was an “Have you ever SR DG —— — ) AT i L § R ~ PN I N AS THOUGH HE WERE TRYING thought, Mr. Douglas, that some men work not because they enjoy the work but because they're afraid to stop? Afraid to face the vacuum of release, afraid to face whatever it is they're forever denying and tucking under?’ It was the first time Stephen Doug- las had ever seen another man's de- spair, and he felt embarrassed and humble and inadequate. “Perhaps the thing one keeps denying, running away from'—he hoped dumbly he might not blunder—“wouldn’t be so monumental If it were faced.” Michael Higgins shook his head. s not so simple as that. The problem of human relations isn't as simple as the building of dams and bridge: umes away from him and rose from the table. “It's not easy for some men to admit they've made a failure of anything. I'm one of those men.” “Mr. Higgins. Stephen Douglas faced him. He was afraid to lneals and yet, it seemed, some way. a though he had to. “Mr. Higgins, repeated, “why don't you follow the Willow creek path as far as the farmhouse tomorrow at a quarter past 37 I can’t tell you any more. Maybe I've done a terrible thing to have told you this much. But I ¢ani believe I have, some way."” He stopped again, overcome With appre- hension. Michael Higgins met his eyex “Then you think I might run down my—specter?” The younger man hesitated. I don’t know, sir. There's an awful lot in the world I'm not at all sure I understand.” For a long time that night Michael Higgins paced up and down the gravel driveway beyond the cypress hedge. It was indeed a strange busi- ness—this living. At a quarter to 3 Stephen Doug- las closed the viumes that had to do with traction law and started. bare- headed( toward the sunlit garden. The path through the woodland was easy to find. It was a shiftless path, already sprinkled with fallen leaves that had gathered deep in the hol- lows and crackled agreeably as he walked, sending up the dusty, acrid smell that is so undeniably autumnal. *x x L\T the end of a long half milé the 4} willow hedge vanished and be- fore him Stephen saw an unpainted farmhouse. The doors stood open and a thin stream of smpke from the chimney disappeared against daz- sling sunlight. Stephen waited a moment, undecided. Suddnly from the thicket bordering the creek he heard voices: “Maybe it we took the darned en- gine out altogether it might run!™ Stephen followed the lamentation. On the swampy bank of the creek stood the conspirators, Mrs. Higgins and the two boy: At the sourd of his coming the three looked up, startled. “Oh, you Mrs. Higgins gave a little gigsgle of relief, but the eyes of the two boys still regarded him with a question. She pointed to a gaudy toy motor boat on the mud before her. “We can't make it work.” Stephen grinned in sympathy. “So I ascertained—way back there by the farmhouse.” In an instant he had joined them. “What's the matter?” The boy from whom the front tooth was missing met his eyes gravely. “Well, quite & lot of things"” He ‘was a veritable Michael Higgins. “In the first place, you 2 It was 2 long list-of grisvances that followed and Stephen listemed with flattering attention. “There are times when I wish I worked in a garage and not & law office. This is one of them.” There were four heads now that bent over the recalcitrant toy. : < It was here that Michael Higgins, shielded by the thicket of hasel and sumac, 16oked down upon them. Mrs. Higgineg' skirt was torn and muddy. and the two boys, in their lish suits, looked ss un-English - any two other citisens of Illinols. # Suddenly there sounded a faint, ‘wistful stfuggle in the soul of the motor. _ . “Golly, did you hear that?” It was & piping voles, shrill with excite- ment. “Golly Moses!" ; “But the struggls: was futile and ’ "fi!fl'flfill"flfl'l"’ Then he pushed the vol- | H gins stood there and watched them— enviously. This was his land, but he felt like = poacher, an outlaw. For the first time he realized how savagely lonesome he, too, had been. A branch crackled suddenly under his foot and he started, fearful that he might be detected. It was ridicu- lous to hide this way. Here was his chance-at last. ‘With greater timidity than he had ever felt in facing a hostile board of directors Michael Higgins pushed his way gingerly Into the clearing. Then he stopped again. In the four pairs of eyes that flashed upon him only Stephen's did not hold a challenge. “I—I wonder if I couldn’t help yo he fumbled. “I owned a devil of a motor boat myself once.” As If he were an officer of the T, Il bl d == R A Masterful Leader of Industry Who Almost Failed. By A startled smile of amusement twisted Cynthia’s lips and her eyes caught her husband's. It was the first spontaneous intimacy they had known for years, “I brought down some things for you yesterday.” She pointed to the chair by the oven. Michael, jr, wasted no time. At the doorway he stopped suddenly and faced them. “Gen'lly I help,” he ex- plained, “but I thought today you might let father.” He considered the matter judiciously. “I don’t suppose he’ll be very handy at first. But, then, I wasn't either.” * k¥ % A CROSS the unpainted floor of the shabby kitchen stretched a lo- ;" band of sunlight through the op 1 doorway. A kettle bubbled on the rusty stove and in the center of the room a table was spread with a cheap red cover and laid with heavy blue and white china plates. For a long moment neither one of them moved. Finally Michael Hig- gins took a step toward the table There was something appealing and genuine in his embarrassment. “Your son seemed to think you might show me how to help you." There was a moment of silence. “What is it he ustially does?” “Michael!” Something in her voice startled him. Across the long shaft of sunlight / ] /i law, the four of them stepped back dumbly and Michael Higgins picked up the gaudy plaything. Never be- fore had he wished so earnestly for | success. The times he had gambled | against winter to get a dam in, against the thaws of =pring in the mountains, against bankruptcy and { professional ruin seemed trivial now and overrated. keptical and aloof, the three tched him. Only Stephen wished for & miracle. Finally Michael Hig- &ins stooped and placed the toy in the water. His long fingers seemed scarcely to touch the machinery. Then suddenly there came a sharp report and another and another. “Gee,” gasped the miniature Michael iggins. Then the magician headed the tiny craft in the bruad, quiet waters of the pool and released his fingers. Like a valiant and ridiculous otter the boat slashed its way along. “Look out,” he said “Catch her, Mike, before she bumps that mud ban Instantly two boys in extremely grimy English suits sprang to obey the order. On the heeis of the boys | ran Stephen and Michael Higgins. | Knee deep in the mud, Michael, jr.. | received the onrushing vagrant, and, | dripping and exalted, held it aloft for the world's admiration. “Gee,” he panted, “the darn thing's still go- ing. Ul betcha it keeps on all day and tomorrow and mavbe forever. Funny,” he concluded, “how much nicer a boat is that runs, isn't it, father?” A dull flush crept slowly toward Michael Higgina' temples. He was happy, happier than when hix first contract had been accepted, than when his first dam had held. * * * % HEN he turned. very ci toward Mrs. Higgins. he said—and his volce low—"it's all my fault, of course, that he got wet, but don't you reckon he ought to get some dry clothes on?" Cynthia Higgins nodded. “Bring him into the kitchen in & minute. I— 1 really ought to look in that oven.” She stopped, suddenly abashed. “I've got cookies in there baking. After two more successful excur- the pool Michael utiously, was slons across Hig- giny captured the boat. Stephen saw him struggle not to blunder. He was facing his first adventure as an act- ing parent, and more than he feared offending the United States Senate he feared offending this freckle-faced youngster. “Bob, you and Mr. Doug- Jas might wash the boat up. And Mike —the appeal in his eyes was unmistakable—"“you and I have got to find some dry duds.” Michael, Higgins, jr. joined his father without agmurmur. “Sure,” he said. “I generally fall in worse than today.” He was trudging stolidly beside his parent. “Then I go in the Kitchen and mother dries them by the stove, and we get the party ready. Happens that way 'bout every Thur: day.’ . Michael Higgins regarded his son quizzically. “Why every Thursday? “That's the day we get kidnapped.” For an Instant Michael Higgins suspected he was being made fun of, but the gravity of the boy's manner reassured him. “It's a secrst,” he went on, “but I s'pose you might as well know, ‘cause you're her Every Thursday afternoon everybody goes out but Mathilde. She’ the French one. Well, mother gives her a present and lets her sit in her sitting room, so she won't tell Mr. Ruskin. He's the’ English one.” -He scuffied dustily and with delight through a pool of Jeaves. “Well, we skin off and meet mother here. That's all” g Michsel Higgins looked at the boy with a sort of hungry yearning. “Have & good time?” #Oh, sorta.” He would rather die than betray enthusiasm. At the kitchen door they both stopped and Michael, jr, =sniffed skeptically. “Gee, mother, T'H. bet they're burned.” Flushed and excited, she met his challenge. I think it will scrape off. Besides, if we put lots of sugar ’n boy nodded -:;‘i "Werk';: that way once.” He lown on Boor and started tugsing Bt the wet the two faced each other and their eyes sought to read into each other's Bernice Brown “ynthia— He stepped into the band of sunlight between them Then he stopped again, awkwardiy “It hasn't been your fault. he shook her head m-—not smart.” He held out his arms to her sud “Cynthia, dearest,” he plead- { denly. ed, “nelther am 1.” * % * % ¥ November the case of Sel ty vs. Mississippi Valaley Traction Company was appealed for the third time and the appeal was carried over to the next sitting of the court. To write Michael Higgins the result of that hearing was one of the hardest things Stephen Douglas had ever fuced: y coun- 1 know how you hate to see things drag on, incomplete and uncertain And so do 1. Besides, I want to run for governor some day. But it w be next year. “My regards to Mrs. Higgine and the boys. Glad you lked the new sailboat “Sincerely vours, “STEPHEN DOUGLAS To which replied Michael Higgins “I'm sorry about your delayed ca paign for the governorship, but 1 «an't be bo Te now a 1 traction business. I'm much too bu getting the dam at Willow creek fir ished before the winter sets in, and Michael, jr., is a ruthless taskmaster This propaganda for the short working day hasn't reached him all. “Mrs. Higgins and the boys send you their best “Very trtuly vours, "MICHAEL HIGGINS reticence. It was Michael Higgins who broke the silence. “It's come darn near being a mess," he said, “hasn’t it?" She nodded, and her eyes did not leave his. “I'm sorry. HE lullaby has always been a popular form of home song. Childhood is a fleeting period and soon leaves all of us among the hurrying, careworn crowd on the street, a part of the great bread-earning portion of humanity. In that whirlpool of business rush, that maelstrom of competition, when the scothing words and hands of a mother’s touch are no longer about us, it is but natural for the human| heart to steal backward to child- hood’s years. Out of the confusion of life we look once more upon the calm serenity of our earlier years, when loving hands tucked us into our| trundle beds and when the soft words | of a lullaby wafted us to the land of | dreams. There is so much reality in all of this that every reader will find him- self going backward again to the old | songs which memory has brought ou of childhood’s land like a holy bene- lhl\xel diction. We never outgrow early impressions, no matter how great the success later years may bring to us. The songs of a sainled mother or nurse become a strong as- set of our after-lives. It was something of this kind which prompted Mrs. Elizabeth Akers ’ Allen to write the famous song. “Rock Me to Sleep.” It was. and is, not only popular in this country, I)uli in all parts of the world. * ¥ ¥ X \[ RS ELIZABETH ALLEN wasborn 1 in Maine in 1832. Her first hus- band was Paul Akers, a famous sculptor. After his death she mar- ried E. M. Allen of New York. In her earlier years Mre. Allen wrote much for the magazines of her time and used the pen name of Flor-| ence Percy. While traveling in with constant moving from plac Italy—wearied to World’s Famous Songs By Dr. Henry E. Harman | Fait on sour shoulders Coprright. AlL rights reserved. place—she became suddenly home sick. The memorles of a happ: childhood came back to her with overwhelming pathos. She was amons strangers in a strange land, and & great longing came up in her soul for peace, quiet and content, such as st had felt in her early years. Under the spell of these emotions away from home and friends, among strangers in a strange land, Mrs. Allen wrote the now famous song: Backward. turn backward, fight, Make me & child just sgain for tonight: Mother, come back from the echoless shore Take me agaln to your heart as of yore Kiss from my forehead the furrows of carc Smooth the few silver threads out of my b r Over my slumbers sour loving watch keep Rock me 10 sleep, mother, rock me to sleen ob time in your Come, let your brown hair, lighted with gl ain as of old; Let it drop over my forehesd tonight, ding my faint exes away from the For, with its sunny-edged shadows once m: Haply will throng the sweet visions of 3ore Lovingls, softlr. its hright billows sween Rock me to sieep, mother, rock me to sleep * X ok % JFOR a long time after it was writte there was a contest over the au thorship of “Rock Me to Sieep” It developed into something like the dispute over “All Quiet Along the Potomac Tonight” But after sifting 1l the claims ft was finally settléd bevond question, that Mrs. Allen wrote the song. While still abroad she sent the manuscript to an American publica tion and was paid the munificent sum of $5. This is another instance of how little value may at first be given a literary production. In many ca time alone can fix the true value. The music for this famous old song was written and arranged by Ernest Leslie, and it now appears in nearly 1 anthologies of famous songs FIGHTING THE FOREST SNAKES UNeLE SAM'S forestry service s ever on the watch against rattie- | snakes in the national forests. Ar-| rangements were some time ago per-‘i fected for the arming of forest offi- | cers and fire-fighters against snake | bites. | The weapon provided for them is a small combination tool containing a sharp steel lancet and a receptacle to hold permanganate of potash, which is declared to be the best antidote| for snake bite. This remedy may not | be altogether popular districts where from time immemorial the old- time favorite remedy, whisky, is held | to have no equal. but, nevertheless. | the official sanction has been given permanganate. { The necessity for furnishing for- est officers with adequate means of | protection against attacks by snakes | has time and again been strikingly | demonstrated in the case of big for- est fires. After the fires were thought extinguished and the men withdrawn it was discovered that the fire had| broken out again. Squads of men were dispatched Immediately to fight them and on their way they ran into 2 regiment or two of rattlesnakes. In one case it seemed as if the brush was literally alive with snakes. The men consumed the greater part of six hours fighting snakes before they could get through to the fire. Sev- eral of the men were bitten. Officials of the forestry service as- sert that rattlesnakes are as plenti- ful in Montana as in southern Cali- fornia forests and in sections of the southern Appalachians, u:qulndl in 1915 under the Weeks law. The little tool with which the for- est guards are armed can be carried conveniently in the vest pocket, being only a trifle larger than an ordinary fountain pen and not as long. Indi- vidual employes of the United States Geological Survey have been using these little tools for a long time and with great success. Field parties of geologists fre- quently run across snakes. If armed with these vest pocket first-aid in- struments, & bitten man quickly opens up the wound with the lancet, shakes in a little of_the antidote and resumes his work, apparently none the worse for the attack. - Timber survey crews of the for- estry service frequently batfle with snakes. It Is believed that they have the worst time of dll in this relation. The mountainous sections of North Carolina are great breeding places for snakes and some of the regions are now inclosed in national forest aress. Twenty years ago rattle- snakes were quite scarce in the North Carelina mountains. Those v a in terminators, were a formidable part of the state’s porcine population Then along came George W, Var derbilt. who purchased %0.000 acr of this mountainous country and fenced it. driving out the razorbacks and permitting the brush to grow The Toxaway Company followed Mr Vanderbilt, acquiring 30,000 acres a joining his holdings. The exodus of razorbacks from su large an area has resulted in a re- markable increase of rattlesnakes. North Carolinians declare that there were never So many in their state as now. Forestry service men in newly a- quired areas in North Carolina and other southern states have reported the presence of a tremendous number of rattlers. One Washington official, who was in North Carolina looking aver a piece of forest. sat down on log to rest a moment and discov- ered that he had barely missed xit- ting squarely on a rattler. He jump- ed up with a yell, only to find sev- eral others viewing him with ob- vious interest In the forests of the southwest (he thing feared by forest officers a: natives even more than the ra snake is the hydrophobia skun This is & small species of skunk th a terrorizes the district in which it flourishes. To be bitten by means, it is said. hydrophobia, unle the patient can reach a Pasteur hus pital quickly. Spiders and Music. IT has becm asserted that spiders possess a sensitiveness to musical sounds. Some spacies seem to respond to the note:of the piano, the harp. the flute, and %o on, in a manner su gestive of their ability to recogni these sounds or the harmonic vibr tions on which they are based. But a member of the College of Frax who is said to have made a special study of the instincts and the sup- posed “psychism” of epiders, thinks that the apparent sensitiveness of these creatures to music has been misunderstood. Tt is his opinfon that when musical intsruments are played near their nests the spiders simply feel the vibrataions through their webs, or otherwise, without recog- nizing the musical notes as sounds. The effect upon them is similar to that of the buzzing of an entrapped fy. He does not ascribe much “in telligence” to spiders. —_— Mica, the transparent, heat-resisting mineral; familiar to many through its use for windows Iin heating stoves, has now become so essentlal in elec- trical industcy that the larger electri- 1 supply manufacturing companies